I spent the last few days with my girlfriend and some friends on the beach in Puerto Rico. It was everything I needed to unplug. As we waited to board the plane heading North at the end of our trip, we talked about just how kind everyone was there. It was clear to me that culturally, Puerto Rico is not like the US right now. I jokingly suggested as we boarded that it would be a big culture shock if you lived here then landed in Chicago or some other big city in the US, especially the last few months. 

However, the culture shock didn't wait for our descent. It was a bit shocking to me after only 5 days away when I could feel the American air of annoyance on the plane. Everyone was sunburned and tired. Glaring at each other as we put our things away and got comfortable in the seats made for no one’s comfort. I was prone to the same downfall. After vacation, I slid back into the busyness and the annoyance of it all as I boarded the plane, armed with my noise cancelling headphones and neck pillow. A face that unmistakably screamed, "please don't talk to me." 

From the first words over the intercom, I could tell the flight attendants were also not particularly interested in interacting with the people on the flight. There were a few clues that made it obvious. The attendant at the door who held up the sanitizing wipe but never made eye contact with a single passenger. The attendant who explained that everyone would get ONE SNACK, which happened to be a cookie. "O-n-e," she spelled out. In all my years of flying, that was a new addition to the welcome instructions. 

But no one on that plane was going to take the joy from the sweet little kid sitting in the window seat of my aisle. I didn’t really notice her at first.  But when the flight attendant pulled up to offer us in-service snacks and drinks, her smile was unavoidable as she said with glee, “can I have two cookies?” I felt the panic instilled in me young as a good southern child: You can’t ask for more! She said one! O-N-E. I could feel her Mom having the same “oh no” reaction. The attendant blankly stared. As I opened my mouth to say, “she can have my cookie,” the flight attendant handed her a second one silently. 

This kid lit up like an arcade. That’s when I noticed what she was up to. Her camera was snapped into the window filming a video of the pink sun as it set for what felt like hours with no worry about if the phone would die or storage would be used up. Now, with two cookies. Later, when the drinks came around, she giggled as the flight attendant listed all the juices in Spanish - even “tomate” which elicited another adorable giggle from this kid. “Tomate!?” She screamed with disgust and joy. I couldn’t help but smile under my mask. 

I wonder when we start to lose that boldness to ask for one more cookie or stop giggling at things unknown. When we start letting the rules decide instead of dreaming a little. When is it not cute any more to dream a little or ask for more than what we get? I imagine we all have a moment when our free spirit is replaced with fear. A time when we realize from that day forward we’re better off conforming and contorting to the rules. It’s not distinct or remarkable, at least for me, but I know at some point I went from the dream to denying. I mean, I won’t even get up when the seatbelt sign is on. Ask for a second snack? I wouldn’t dare. 

Denying our wants and simply accepting rules that are completely made up will always drain our joy. I hope that kid - and all of us - hold on as long as we can to the freedom of finding out just how happy we can be. To ask for more than what we are given. To deeply feel and experience the joy of a second cookie.